


Pros and Cons

by 51stCenturyFox



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-17
Updated: 2009-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-04 23:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/51stCenturyFox/pseuds/51stCenturyFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> You can't con a conman. OR CAN YOU?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pros and Cons

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Planet of the Dead (2009)

Lady Christina de Souza reclined in the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel to steer and the other wrapped around a GPS unit she'd pulled from her bag. _Handier even than a hammer_, she thought, as she peered at the shimmer of morning sunlight on the Channel below.

"Monte Carlo or La Môle?" she pondered aloud, remembering a villa in a secluded spot owned by a family friend... a very, very rich and more than slightly trusting (_gullible isn't a nice word, really_) family friend... before making her decision and keying the coordinates in with a thumb. "Jean-Guillaume and La Môle it is."

Before she could finish, she felt the bus begin to turn around. She gripped the wheel but it spun ineffectually under her hands as the bus completed its bank in the air and headed back towards the UK. She whacked a palm against the useless steering column and cursed at the ceiling.

She guessed at who was probably behind the change in course and sighed before sitting back in the seat, crossing her arms over her chest and resting her booted feet on the ledge beneath the front window.

"Might as well enjoy the ride."

*

A steaming mug of coffee was halfway to Jack's lips when his wrist strap vibrated and emitted a loud beep. He managed to set the mug on his desk without spilling a drop before twisting his arm, squinting at the display and pressing hard on a blinking button.

"Jack. It's the Doctor."

Jack smiled. "Doctor!" he said, before picking up the mug again with his other hand to take in his first sip of the morning. "To what do I owe the pleasure? World need saving?"

"Not even towing."

"You did make the earth move the last time I saw you."

"Well. Yes." The Doctor paused. "Is that a... joke, Jack?"

"Sort of."

"Earth's fine this time. Or... it is now. But I do need a favour and..."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Jack protested. "I think you might owe _me_ one. The last time I saw you I was crushed. Dalek compactor."

"Shot, too. You're fine, though."

"True, but-"

"Alien tech headed your way."

Jack tilted his head and put down the mug. "All right. Interested now."

"It's a double-decker London bus."

"_A what_?"

"Haven't seen the news yet this morning? Report of a flying bus over London?"

"An... alien bus."

"Not exactly. 200 bus to Victoria. With Tritovorian anti-gravity clamps on the wheels."

"That explains the flying," Jack breathed.

"Driven by... or is it piloted? Technically? Not sure. Anyhow, a criminal is steering the thing."

"Oh."

"Now I know you're awake, be on the lookout and get the tech. It's on the way. Should be there at noon. I'll send you the coordinates."

"So, that's your doing, I take it, Doctor."

"It is."

"Right. I'll report in when it's taken care of. Though... the team's out. Gwen Cooper and Ianto Jones - you remember them - they're away with their families for the holiday."

"Oh, I'm fairly confident you can handle this one on your own. And Jack?"

"Doctor?"

"Let the pilot go after you get the tech, all right?"

"What, no justice for the wicked?"

"This one's been through enough. Helped out. Sort of... grew on me a bit, actually."

"Doctor's orders. Fine. But after this you do owe me one."

"Fair enough."

 

_ The Doctor figured he owed Jack a favour, not a warning._

 

*

 

Jack stood on the top level of a parking garage in Cardiff and watched as a spot in the air became a bigger spot... which then became recognisably bus-shaped as it flew down and settled on the paved surface like a Harrier jet being parked.

_Wow_, he thought. _This thing's... wrecked. _

He strode to the door, hand on his holster.

"Out of the bus," he commanded, as the battered door squeaked open slowly. A dark head emerged.

"And who are you?" the black-clad woman asked him, quirking a brow as Jack raised his gun.

"Captain Jack Harkness. Torchwood."

"Torchwood is real?" she asked. "Of course it is. Enlightening weekend. Is there an Easter bunny somewhere here as well?"

Jack smiled. "Not today. Step down and you can go. I only have orders to take charge of the vehicle."

"Well, the least you can do is feed me. It's been hours since I've had a morsel. Or a drink. And I seem to have misplaced my cash and Coutts card on another... planet."

"That's a shame, but that's not my problem, either. Off the bus."

"I'm not so sure I want to."

"And I'm the one with a gun aimed at you," Jack pointed out. But he offered his other hand to the woman to help her alight from the steep stair onto the pavement.

"This is a very good point." Christina said, ignoring the hand in favour of jumping. Legs unsteady, she pitched forward and Jack caught her against one shoulder.

She looked up...._coquettishly_, Jack thought. He knew the type. _Sometimes he was the type._

"I'm Christina. Lady Christina to you, since you're fond of titles, Captain Jack Harkness."

"Pleased to meet you, Lady Christina." Jack said with a wink. "Come on. I'll take you to lunch. Can't let you starve."

"Not sure I want to let this bus out of my sight," she answered, pulling away and shading her eyes from the sun with one hand. "I know you could shoot me for it, but somehow I doubt you will."

"Look," Jack said, holstering his Webley, "I know a place where you can see the roof from a window."  He extended his arm. "Lunch, milady?"

 

*

 

As Jack hefted a menu, he wondered if he could charge lunch to the Doctor's account.  Did the Doctor even_ have_ an account?

"Cottage pie and chips," he told the waiter. "And water."

"Sounds pleasantly peasant-y. I'll have the same," Christina said. "And a glass of Médoc " She brushed the shiny fringe out of her eyes before speaking again.

"So, tell me - who are the people in red berets? Are they Torchwood too?"

Jack paused. _He was planning to slip his companion a dose of retcon before sending her on her way, so why not make a bit of conversation_?

"UNIT. They handle alien... things as well."

"They shot a creature out of the sky, but they didn't shoot down the bus."

"You're not an alien, are you?" Jack asked with a serious look.

"Certainly not!" 

"Just a thief."

"I don't technically steal things. I liberate them," she protested with a smile as their meals arrived.

"From their rightful owners."

"Something like that. Don't tell me you've never done anything naughty. It's- well, it's fun."

Jack took a sip of water.  "Actually, I did once make off with a highly-sophisticated alien battle craft.  _Much_ more difficult to steal and pilot than a _double-decker bus_."

"Show off."

"Maybe a little," he concurred with a grin.

"Have you ever met any aliens?" Christina asked.

"Have I ever met any aliens?" Jack answered sarcastically. "Let me see.... yes. Tons."

"The one that followed us- the Doctor and I ended up-"  she began, excitedly relating the tale of a flying stingray and heat and dirt and being lowered down a shaft.

"...and they had _teeth_!"

Jack had to shush her a few times as her voice rose.  After Jack handled the bill, they left the restaurant and Jack suggested they stop for a takeaway cup of tea at a shop on the corner before parting. _Perfect for retcon dispersal_, he thought to himself.

"I'll get them. I lied. I do actually have a bit of money. Enough for tea, anyway."

"I'd be obliged, " Jack agreed, and waited outside as she went in. Christina stopped short on the sidewalk when she emerged, cups in hand.

"My bag. I've left it on the bus."

"Okay. Let's go. Grab your gear, we'll have tea on the roof and then I'm back on duty protecting Cardiff against the alien threat."

   
*

 

Back on the ruined bus, Christina turned her back to gather her belongings into her bag as Jack took a moment to admire her... moxie. Right before he slipped a bit of level 4 retcon (five hours to sleepytime) into her styrofoam cup of tea. He swirled it a few times and handed it to her with a smile.

"Cheers."

 He watched with satisfaction as she tipped the cup backward to her lips and he did the same with his.  _Not as good as coffee, but needs must._

"Captain Jack Harkness," she began, "it was nice knowing you. Even though you pointed a gun at me."

"It wasn't personal."

"I know." Christina replaced the lid on her cup and placed it on a bench . "As a matter of fact, I do suppose I owe you for not shooting me... and for lunch."

"Not..." Jack replied as she plucked his half-empty cup from his hand and placed it next to hers before she leaned forward and placed both palms on his chest. "...necessary."

"Oh, let me thank you properly."  She breathed, her dark eyes staring up at his blue ones.  She nuzzled his collarbone as she pushed him backward slowly onto an opposite bus bench.  She leaned forward and finally pressed her lips to his.

_I should probably stop her, but she is... a really good kisser_, he thought, as he closed his eyes.

   
*     

Jack stirred slowly and smiled to himself. He was warm and had been kissing...  he licked his lips. They were awfully, awfully dry.

Then he lifted his head, blinked and looked around. He was alone in the bus, and from the angle of the sun he could tell that it was late afternoon. He shook the sleep from his brain and turned around. Christina was gone. He looked at the seat next to him and saw both tea containers, one half-drained and the other still full, alongside a small bottle with a dropper top. He picked it up, squinted at the label and groaned.

"Oh. _Nice_."

He'd been drugged into slumber. He reached up to rub at his eyes and his hand brushed against a piece of paper pinned to his coat. It was a note:

 

_Dear Jack,_

_Didn't think I'd fall for the old tea trick, did you?  I invented that trick!_

_V. sorry to leave without saying goodbye. Places to go._

_...but thank you for the lovely day. _

_Perhaps one day we'll meet again under different circumstances. _

_Until then, don't let the aliens bite!_

_Fondest regards,_

_\- Christina_

 

_Well,_ he thought to himself. _At least I've still got the bus_. He stood and walked to the door, pulled the lever to open it and stepped down... but instead he tripped and caught himself on his hands.

The bus was... lower. He turned his head slowly and looked at the wheels.

Lady Christina had taken the clamps.

He should have been angrier, but Jack had to muster grudging respect for anybody who could con a (_former, thank you_) conman so... thoroughly.

Jack pressed his fingers to his lips to stifle a grin but failed miserably. When he threw back his head to laugh, the pigeons pecking at the ground around him scattered and flew away, in the direction of  La Môle.

And on Tuesday, when Ianto and Gwen caught up on paperwork and passed him separate standard crime reports about a vintage Jaguar stolen from the Mayor's garage and a shiny silver object seen _levitating_ over the Plass before shooting off to the south, Jack laughed again.

It wasn't often Jack Harkness met his match. 

But the Doctor _definitely_ owed him one now.

Inspired by the song [To Catch A Thief by Lovage](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2c2aa_GMVA)  



End file.
